Mighty Stars

Mighty Stars

By Shiylah Ayres

 

Gazing at the stars, they feel too far.

And I need bars.

For real, don’t kill the zone just to feel the pain burning in ya soul.

Make space

For the ones that don’t fit,

And let the haters feel the shame.

They will grow like mud in a meadow.

They break the laws like they break windows. BOOM! CRASH!

But whatever, the haters got nothin’ on us.

We are Mighty Stars.  

We don’t always shine bright but we love to help – big or small

People find their ways.

Find their ways so they can stop feeling shame.

So they can be in the circle of love again.

For real, don’t kill the zone, and you will feel the love that’s burning in ya soul.


Shiylah Ayres is a Mighty Writer.

Surroundings

Surroundings

By Evan Croy

Staring at the satisfying blue sky, watching squirrels running about

Attractive roses galore next to the long stretch of sunshine.

Stepping on the bus, driving down that peaceful road…

Tossing toxic chemicals into the air
Spreading throughout the sky like Febreze particles

Tearing apart our atmosphere.

Air is becoming the polluted ocean.

If we don’t change, the air will be trash floating up.
Wondering what it was like 100 years ago;

The stars shone in all their glory at night,

People were free to see and breathe without worry.

Now, some have to breathe through face masks.
Let’s reverse this process and get the air clean,

Bring the carbon monoxide down that’s shattering the ozone layer.

Looking through the window of the bus,

Thinking about making the world a better place.


Evan Croy is in 7th grade in the Perkiomen Valley School District. He enjoys listening to music, playing the saxophone, cooking, and being on the swim team. He lives with his parents, little brother and two guinea pigs. He cares about our environment and hopes others will too.

Muscles, a Fish

there’s always a wrinkle in water
flashing dashing round and round
hopes of friendship like colored flakes
r g y g b
e r  e  r  r
d e  l   e  o
e  l   y w
n  o      n
w

he sees this as another day of social studies
I see him as another friend
one I hope will last forever
a fish is a fish no matter if it’s loved
or not

our friends have left us wondering
how life will turn out after
the ones
you left
are gone

facts of life are harder to think about than Social Studies
I sat quiet no sound,no sun.
just whiteplates ,fast and still.
falling through peace like leaves in winter.

Landing into soft undercoat of summer air
whispering gently, words of silence
shining crystals melt into late autumn.

Falling slow around springs grass
soft as the past that just left
left me wandering in time,alone
with no sound,but sunlight.

 

Erez is a ten-year-old student in C. W. Henry’s 4th grade GS program. He loves to play golf (when it’s warmer), and made the Roxborough Y swim team. Erez lives mostly with his mom, but he writes poetry with his dad. He has a four-year-old sister, Rebecca.

Taxes

I am a cowering cat
I am a man paying taxes
I am the iPad clicking
I am the lone goose
Flying home

 

Victor Ginsberg is a twelve-year old writer. He studies creative writing at the “Teen Lit Magazine” workshop at the Musehouse Literary Arts Center in Germantown (www.musehousecenter.com).

Where I’m Really From

I am from Albania, where large land lies between houses.
I am from the warm country of beauty and peace.
I am from a place with big mountains and lakes, a place where kids explore and hunt.
I am from my family and friends and love.
I am from the country that loves soccer, camping, and home cooked meals.
I am from a place where kids run home to the amazing smell of homemade bread that
reaches the mountains.
I am from a place of dance, laughter, peace, family, and warm welcomes.
I am from a place I call home.

 

Anxhela Zere is in 9th grade at Adaire HS in the fall. Anxhela wrote this poem at the PSJr writing workshop at the Tacony branch of the Free Library.

Untitled

Smith’s Watches and Fine Jewelry sat deserted on Cherry St.
Its owner now living in the slums-
For the Depression was on – And with their money gone,
Folks had no interest in fancy time-keepers or brooches.
And though they could sell them to the government instead-
(That was part of Roosevelt’s “New Deal”)
They still sold at a loss.
Which forced Smith’s to close its doors, for lack of money, much needed.
Its owner, now broke, and with a large family to feed,
Decided to kill two birds with one stone-
And go to the Unemployed Benefits Office and the soup kitchen-
In one trip, and then go home.
To say this, without a moan or a groan,
Was quite something, don’t you think?
If you know that before the “big D” set in-
He lived in a mansion with servants and so-
Do you not think it is remarkable, after living in luxury,
Drinking coffee with foam-
To call the slums “home”?

 

Pearl Ramke is a 12-year-old homeschooler. She lives in Jenkintown, PA, with her mom, dad and bunny, Pfeff. She likes to dance ballet
and play percussion in addition to being interested in science and writing. She also has her own business selling potholders on the
website Etsy. Pearl studies creative writing at the “Teen Lit Magazine” workshop at the Musehouse Literary Arts Center in Germantown (www.musehousecenter.com).

Stages

In the beginning
I have gone slowly and simply
Never straying from the path laid out
Obedient, I did what was ordered
Docile, I learned what was taught

In the middle
I have strayed only slightly
Letting some of my colors show
When given some freedom
Doing what I pleased
But staying within certain boundaries

Towards the end
I will come out completely
To live the life I always dreamed
Setting my own goals
Fulfilling new dreams
And letting my whole life shine
The way I want it to be

 

Martine Fortune is a 9th grade student at the Shipley School in Bryn Mawr, PA. She resides in Philadelphia, PA. Martine enjoys travelling, reading fantasy fiction, writing poetry and short stories. She also runs cross-country and plays basketball for Shipley. Martine aspires to be a writer and professional athlete.

Flash fiction

I’ll vote for you!

He sat on the lonely bench, watching us as we pelted
each other with snowballs.

“This one’s for the old guy in the suit!” shouted Jerry, aim-
ing for him.

“No!” I cried stopping him. The man stood, and walked towards us. “Thank you.” He said smiling at me “It was a rough day at the White House.”

 

 

Marianna Bergues is 14 years old, lives in Narberth, PA, and is homeschooled. She loves to write fiction and has tried to write her own children’s story. She’s not sure who her favorite author is but she thinks she’d have to say J.K. Rowling (because she LOVES Harry Potter) or Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Marianna studies creative writing at the “Teen Lit Magazine” workshop at the Musehouse Literary Arts Center in Germantown (www.musehousecenter.com).

The Light

The light, the light, it’s calling my name
The heart, the peace is running through me
The night, the light is on me now
Right, left, up and down
I like them all; I can’t decide
Oh house, oh house, what is my name?
Do you know it?
I know, you know
The light and the rain
I know they’re calling me
Everything is beautiful
So, so beautiful

 

Elle Julius is 7 years old and lives in Ardmore, PA. with her mother, father, aunt, and brother Wyatt, who is 5 and has autism. Elle is a wonderful big sister to her brother. She attends Penn Valley Elementary School and is in 2nd grade. She loves reading books and writing poetry.

Humming

If I, when my technological conveniences are off
And the mail has come,
and the moon has risen, high in the sky, resting
In the embrace of fog
Above withered trees,
If I, in my scarcely lighted room,
Hum loudly and quite off key,
Clapping my hands to the butchered beat.
Humming, quite off key, to myself, humming,
Louder,
Louder,
with each passing
breath.
If I, admire my voice,
my tone, my pitch, my rhythm
Against the shallow ambiance of the outside
Who is to say I am not
the vocal prodigy of my household

 

Isa Long is a 14 year old writer living in the western section of Philadelphia. Some of his influences include: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Amanda Matuskey, and Michael Crichton. Isa studies creative writing at the “Teen Lit Magazine” workshop at the Musehouse Literary Arts Center in Germantown (www.musehousecenter.com).